


The Cat in the Mirror

by Mohammedbey



Series: Arkab Legion [2]
Category: BattleTech: MechWarrior, Science Fiction - Fandom, Space - Fandom, War - Fandom, mercenaries - Fandom
Genre: War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:34:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23227918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mohammedbey/pseuds/Mohammedbey
Summary: Clan Nova Cat was tasked with providing support for Clan Smoke Jaguar's assault on the Draconis Combine's capitol world of Luthien. Despite their superior technology and well-trained pilots, the Clans encountered determined, almost suicidal defenders. Mechwarrior Stephen was one of the pilots of Clan Nova Cat and he had many misgivings about his Clan's allies.
Series: Arkab Legion [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1670080





	1. Chapter 1

Clan Nova Cat Landing Zone  
Luthien  
Draconis Combine  
January 4, 3052  
Before Dawn

“All Trinary Striker elements, please report to conference room 201 for briefing.”  
Mechwarrior Stephen hurried down the busy corridor towards the lift. The fastener to his neural helmet’s chin strap needed repair and kept forgetting to have it serviced. He made a mental note that he was sure to forget by the time he returned to the LZ.  
The conference room was packed, Stephen was glad that he wasn’t assigned to a Binary, the room was far too small for Elementals.  
“Listen up, all of you,” Star Captain Janet Drummond was never one for wasting time, she fired up the holographic projector and highlighted several unit icons on display, “All of you have already received the briefing concerning Clan Smoke Jaguar’s obviously asinine battle plan, which I officially call, ‘Clan Smoke Jaguar’s Obviously Asinine Battle Plan’, just in case you were unaware.” The plan’s title appeared in large letters above the projected map. “This is a refresher briefing,” stated the star captain, “as we already know, Clan Smoke Jaguar intends to win this battle on their own, with Clan Nova Cats as passive observers.” The trinary members chuckled. “We are about fifty kilometers from Luthien, a heavily urbanized capitol city,” Drummond said, “it is ringed by defensive batteries, which will be a problem if we fail to close with them swiftly.”  
She opened the map to show the planet, “Khan Furey is gambling on numerous, small attacks scattered across the planet will deny the capitol of vital reinforcements,” Drummond shook her head, “I disagree, the Draconis Combine is more than willing to make sacrifices in order to achieve victory; How many times has this enemy sacrificed soldiers and vehicles to save their battlemech forces, in order to fight another battle? Khan Furey has even forgotten that on Wolcott, the Combine forces sacrificed their honor in order to secure victory, and caused Clan Smoke Jaguar to shamefully flee the field,” she looked from one pilot to another, “our enemy knows our target, does any fool actually believe that they will not easily sacrifice a handful of targets of little importance in order to defend that known target?” 

The map returned to a display of the path as outlined in Khan Furey’s plan. “The 119th shall first assemble in battle line, two hundred fifty meters behind the First Jaguar Cluster,” the unit icons appeared on the map. “From our landing zone, we shall maintain sequence toward Tairakana Plains here, beside Basin Lake, where we expect to meet the first major resistance,” Khan Furey expects to make little work of these defenders and charge into Waseda Hills, unopposed.” She shrugged, “Well, that is the plan.”  
One of the pilots raised his hand, “What about their aerospace?”  
“Funny you should ask,” replied Drummond, “I posed the same question to Khan Furey and he was dismissive, he assured me that the savagery of his pilots shall clear the skies of opposition, on the first day.”  
“What about the dropships we lost while burning in and on final approach?”  
“The day is not over, yet,” explained the star captain, “so do your best to stay alive, because we will need to extract our valuable forces from this disaster.”  
Drummond straightened up, “Trinary Striker,” the pilots snapped to attention, “fall out and mount up!”  
“Yes, star captain!”

Sunrise

Stephen marched his Mad Dog to join his starmates. He looked at his navigation display and his star’s position was marked. As one, the five omnimechs moved to assume their assigned starting location. The sky was just beginning to glow through the gray industrial haze that blanketed the skies over the city. The Clan Smoke Jaguar lines were already arrayed in line abreast while it was still dark, they were so anxious, even though the time to advance on the enemy was set.  
“This is Khan Furey speaking,” crackled the radio.  
Stephen rolled his eyes, “Oh, please, not a silly, motivational speech!” He turned the volume down and tapped an icon in order to play a game of solitaire, to fend off imminent boredom, waiting for Clan Smoke Jaguar to finally get on with the battle.  
In the middle of his fourth hand, there was cheering over the comm and Stephan saw the Smoke Jaguar line begin to trudge forward. “About bloody time!” The mechwarrior never liked the condescending manner Khan Furey addressed people, like a Sibko instructor who could only talk to children, so that is how he talked to everybody. The speech was a droning, prosy affair, with a smattering of Sibko-level platitudes that would drive even a Sibko member to challenge Furey to a Circle of Equals, just to shut him up.  
“Point Three, neaten up the line.”  
He hadn’t noticed that the Jaguar line had slowed and he was outpacing the others in his formation, “Heh, just eager to get ahead.”  
“Maintain formation, the enemy is not going anywhere, Stephen.”

There was the flash of muzzles and the strobing of lasers as the First Jaguar Cluster engaged the enemy across their line. The Nova Cats were ordered to halt and hold their position, despite the larger number of enemy units ahead of the Clan forces. Enemy battlemechs toppled to the ground and the First Jaguar Cluster surged forward in triumph. Stephen was slowly becoming depressed, as the Jaguars were about to destroy their opponents so handily.  
The whole planet seemed to shake. Massive explosions some three hundred meters ahead sent columns of mushroom clouds into the air, as well as limbs and fragments of battlemechs. He saw a star of omnimechs rush a lance of enemy machines and engulfed in brilliant light before being flung like broken toys. A Warhawk, its legs shredded, stumbled drunkenly and trod on a cluster of landmines before crashing headlong into the field of tall grass, now burning in spots.  
Stephen shook his head, “Star Captain Drummond was right, again!” The mechwarrior saw the folly of Khan Furey’s insult by refusing to offer batchall, he literally told the Draconis Combine that dishonorable combat was expected, and their only choice. To most Clan warriors, the difference between honorable and dishonorable combat is a simple matter of checking a box. Khan Furey totally lacked the imagination required to anticipate the devious capabilities of Inner Sphere warriors and is now being taught a lesson that he cannot fathom, because he refuses the grant the Inner Sphere any form of respect.

Morning

An icon appeared to the right flank of the Jaguar line, then two, then five then a dozen and more. “Otomo,” Stephen said to himself, as he checked the unit identification. The front line was in chaos, with the sudden appearance of the elite Inner Sphere unit. He checked his comm, still no messages, “What are we waiting for?” More icons appeared, this time, Clan aerospace fighters, “Now this is an insult,” murmured Stephen, “instead of calling us, Clan Smoke Jaguar would rather be saved by their aerospace,” he keyed his microphone, “Is it too late for us to change sides?” His comment was met with laughter.  
“Why am I not surprised?” Stephen slumped in his command couch as Clan Smoke Jaguar units, called from the reserves, moved forward, while the Nova Cat elements, originally give the task, were being slighted. More enemy unit icons appeared on his display. “First Sword of Light, Second Legion of Vega…” the Smoke Jaguar had pounced and instead of bearing down their opponent, they had been stopped in their tracks and were being shaken in the jaws of the Dragon as a terrier would shake a rat. He rather liked that image.

Bolstered by fresh Clan Smoke Jaguar reserves and aerospace support, the First Sword of Light gradually gave ground, but made the haughty Jaguars pay for every meter.  
Star Colonel Thara Lossey finally transmitted the message that Stephen for which he had awaited all morning, “119th Striker Cluster, prepare to advance.” He looked forward and could barely discern the Clan Smoke Jaguar line ahead, the fighting was obscured by smoke from the burning tall grass and flaming wreckage of both friend and foe machines. Above the battle, Smoke Jaguar aerospace units no longer struck with impunity, as a swarm of Draconis Combine air units had arrived to challenge Clan control of the skies and savaged Clan Smoke Jaguar’s tactical air support, scattering formations, driving many away and sending others plummeting to the ground.

As a single organism, the Clan Nova Cat battle line marched forward at a slow walk. “Maintain formation, keep it neat,” commanded Star Captain Drummond, “Show the Jaguars how a disciplined, elite unit fights.”  
“The Draconis Combine has already given them that lesson, Star Captain,” commented Stephen.  
“Point taken, Stephen, I stand corrected,” replied Drummond, “it will behoove all of you to pay attention to the invaluable lesson Clan Smoke Jaguar is presenting to us, on what not to do.”  
“Star Captain Drummond, I have a question,” said Stephen.  
Drummond replied, “If it is pertinent, ask away.”  
“I believe the question is pertinent to the current situation, Star Captain,” Stephen commented, “How exactly did Clan Smoke Jaguar achieve a Clan-wide reputation as the most powerful Clan? To be clear, I see nothing in the histories to prove that claim.”  
“Ah,” the captain stalled to gather her response, “I am going to have to put it this way,” she slowly pieced together her answer, “I suppose, mind you, I suppose, that it was a rumor started among the Smoke Jaguars and repeated often enough to the other Clans and left unchallenged to the point that the rumor was eventually accepted as truth,” she sighed in seeming exasperation, “we are prone to that kind of gullibility, aren’t we?”  
“Indeed, Star Captain,” Stephen agreed, “This whole invasion has opened my eyes to a reality unrealized in the Home Worlds.”  
The ground shook as artillery rounds landed among the Smoke Jaguar ranks one hundred fifty meters ahead of them. Stephen had never faced artillery before and the very thought of an unseen opponent attacking without any form of retaliation rather unsettling.

Star Colonel Sean Wirth growled as his Gargoyle staggered, missiles, particle beams and gauss projectiles tore rents in its once pristine armor. “Trinary Commander Maximillian Devalis,” he sneered over the link, “Why do your stars not advance to support my unit? I am being attacked by massed vehicles.”  
Devalis answered casually, “I do not recall my trinary being attached to support you, Star Colonel,” he mocked, “Your task is to sweep aside all resistance –Is not your broom big enough for the job?”  
“Have a care, Nova Cat!” hissed Wirth, “Lest I teach you a lesson in a Circle of Equals.”  
“Obviously the ones wielding the brooms are out of their depth…”  
Mechwarrior Stephen chuckled at the exchange between the commanders, he wondered if there would be a point where the two clans would ignore the planet’s defenders and attempt to destroy each other. “No matter what happens,” he muttered to himself, “Clan Smoke Jaguar will place the blame on ilKhan Kerensky.”  
On his display, it appeared that the First Sword of Light’s center had broken and, much to his chagrin, a Smoke Jaguar reserve trinary rushed into the gap ahead of his unit. Much to his surprise, a unit icon suddenly appeared, it was a green banner with a gold fringe and a curious script that with which he was wholly unfamiliar. “8th Arkab Legion?” His computer had no information on the unit at all, was it newly formed?

Through the smoke and dust, he saw an Atlas, painted in light earth tones with mottled green; at its ponderous feet, a formation of unmistakable Star League era vehicles, like snarling attack dogs. “That has to be their commander!” Stephen exclaimed. A pair of VTOLs swooped through the fighting units, their lasers blazing. These too, were of Star League design. Who were these warriors? He accessed his onboard computer and established that there were only seven Arkab legions, and four of them had been destroyed over the years. The reports showed that the Arkab Legions were unique due to their fielding pristine Star League equipment, despite centuries without supply. It was another mystery.

Ahead of him, Stephen watched the Atlas blast a Gargoyle’s head from its shoulders. Three Mad Dogs rushed forward to challenge the three Puma heavy tanks that blasted away at the Smoke Jaguar ranks. Once the trio of heavy omnimechs planted their feet and attempted to intimidate the three vehicles, the formation sped forward, flanked them, then raked their rear armor with massed fire, which immediately sent one of the Mad Dogs sprawling to the ground. The Atlas fired continuously, all the while it was enveloped by a white cloud. Stephen could barely make out the vehicle behind the Atlas, which sported a set of turrets from which it sprayed the assault battlemech with streams of coolant, allowing the Atlas to fire its weapons without overheating.

It was just after the beheaded Gargoyle dropped to the ground, that a voice could be heard over the din of combat:  
“Allahu akbar, Allahu akbar!  
Allahu akbar, Allahu akbar!  
Ash-hadu an la ilaha illa-llah  
Ash-hadu an la ilaha illa-llah  
Ash-hadu anna Muhammadan rasulu-llah  
Ash-hadu anna Muhammadan rasulu-llah.”  
Stephen felt the hair at the back of his neck stand up at the melodious call, which rang out in a clear tenor voice. He could see the plains littered with wreckage, strewn with destroyed fighting machines as Clan omnimechs and battlemechs of the Inner Sphere struggled against one another, in a senseless battle that was entirely avoidable.  
“This is insanity!” he exclaimed, “how can we maintain the delusion of superiority after witnessing their expertise at true warfare?”  
“Stephen, what is wrong?” Captain Drummond was concerned.  
“Just look!” he replied, “have you ever seen Clan Smoke Jaguar units in such confusion and disarray?” He noted that not only had his star halted, but his entire trinary paused to watch the savage battle before them, an obscure Inner Sphere unit had interposed itself between the advancing Clan units and the stream of broken, damaged and demoralized units fleeing the front line. They refused to yield a millimeter, but fought and fell where they stood, not without taking a toll on the proud Smoke Jaguar ranks, which also sent damaged omnimechs back to waiting repair bays. Then the Smoke Jaguar line stepped back, almost withdrawing to the Nova Cat line to avoid the constant rain of artillery. It was during that brief moment that the stalwart 8th Arkab Legion also backed away, then retired in good order while their three valiant Pumas, their armor rent and stripped bare, remained in contact with the Jaguar line, firing their weapons in every direction, until under massed fire they perished.

“Dress the line, Striker Trinary,” ordered the star captain, “at a walk, advance!”  
The Nova Cat line marched smartly forward, only pausing to dispatch a lone Sword of Light Jenner, a leg severed and propped against a tree, that refused to surrender.  
“Unless we find wounded or mercenaries,” commented Stephen, “there shall be scant prisoners, but their tenacity will cost us even more.”  
On his display, Stephen could see that the Clan forces were advancing across its front, chasing down fleeing Combine units, occasionally finding small knots of resistance by those unable to flee fast enough. They advanced upon a range of mildly rolling terrain called Waseda Hills but the display showed a small grouping of omnimechs whose advance was halted by a single target marked by an 8th Arkab Legion icon. “Alpha Star, follow me!” he kicked his mech forward and pushed the throttle to maximum speed. “Captain Drummond, you must see this!”

The plains before Waseda Hills was spotted with occasional stands of trees and Stephen could see a mass of omnimechs gathering ahead of him, with more rushing to view the spectacle, from every direction. His Mad Dog slowed to a walk as he moved into a gap between the throng of Clan omnimechs, just in time to watch an Adder collapse, both its left torso and head destroyed. Stalking about the defeated Adder was a Crab battlemech, painted in the mottled desert colors of the Arkab Legion. The Crab’s armor was badly scarred, its arms battered and nearly stripped bare, yet it still fought on, accepting one challenger after another.  
Stephan looked at the Nova standing beside him, “Walter, what did I miss?”  
“Hey, Stephen,” replied the Nova’s pilot, “I hear he has taken down a Gargoyle, Mad Dog, Summoner, Hellbringer and this Adder, all from Clan Smoke Jaguar” he added, “I arrived to see the Summoner go down, but I have to add, those omnimechs were in sorry shape to begin with and probably did not expect a pristine Star League battlemech to bar their path.”

“I am Trinary Commander Chu-sa Sven Shamash of the incomparable Eighth Arkab Legion! Allah, the Compassionate, the Merciful commands that I defend the way to Waseda Hills and to the Imperial City beyond. Hegira is offered to those wise enough to turn back. Who will be the first to challenge, allowing no other to interfere?” The Crab swiveled its torso from side to side as it stalked in a circle. In response, every omnimech present raised their arms in challenge, each pilot hoping for a chance at glory before their peers.  
Stephen practically jumped from his seat, the arms of his Mad Dog raised high. His heart pounded as the Crab paused and turned in his direction. Suddenly, Walter’s Nova stepped in front of his Mad Dog. “Accepted,” announced the Crab’s pilot.  
“Blast you, Walter!” shouted Stephen, this wasn’t the first time Mechwarrior Walter had cut in line ahead of him…

The Crab broke into a lateral run. Walter’s Nova dashed straight at the Crab, its heavy pulse laser raked the Crab’s torso and ripped away armor. The medium autocannon burst flew wide. The Crab returned fire, reduced layers of the Nova’s armor to molten slag.  
The Crab then backed away. More of the Crab’s armor pecked away by the Nova’s autocannon. The Crab’s weapons tore into the Nova and left gaping holes in its torso and limbs.

The fight slowly edged its way towards the Waseda Hills. Stephen noted on his display -two columns of Clan omnimechs had continued on their way into the low foothills and were chasing down the slower DCMS units as they attempted to flee to safety. He also took notice of the one column of Nova Cats that paused to witness this battle.  
The Crab managed to avoid the Nova’s pulse laser but the rapid-firing autocannon still managed to score hits. The Arkab battlemech barely managed to keep the distance where its particle cannon was just within range. The pulse laser couldn’t hit the Crab if it maintained range, but it could not escape the autocannon's telling fire, and shards of its armor fell away.

Stephen realized that this current fight had lasted over five minutes. The Crab suddenly halted and allowed the furious Nova to charge forward. The Arkab battlemech braced and fired all three weapons, its PPC, Large and Medium Lasers, which destroyed the omnimech’s left torso. Before the Nova’s left arm fell away, it fired its autocannon one last time before the omnimech’s fusion engine shut down.  
Again, Stephen raised his Mad Dog’s arms in challenge. He silently smirked as Walter emerged from his crippled Nova. The Crab turned about, ringed by dozens of Clan Nova Cat omnimechs, each eager to taste battle that day.  
“Captain Drummond,” said the mechwarrior over the comm, “we must do all we can to capture this brilliant warrior! We need him!”  
“Aff,” agreed his commander, “I shall tell the others in the trinary, should they be chosen.”

“Please forgive my delay,” the Crab’s pilot announced, “I needed a moment to recalibrate my targeting system.” The Star League machine slowly rotated, as if looking for something in particular. “The gray Mad Dog with the scattered star pattern, I accept your challenge. Please announce your name and unit so that I may know with whom I have the honor of battling.”  
“I am Mechwarrior Stephen, One Hundred Nineteenth Nova Cat Striker Cluster, Striker Trinary, Alpha Striker Star,” he was glad he didn’t babble like a fool, he was suddenly so nervous.  
The Crab immediately began to back away, weapons raised and ready.

End of Part 1


	2. The Cat in the Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mechwarrior Stephen proves himself in a duel that he regrets. The Battle for Luthien continues.

The first exchange of fire was at long range, Stephen cursed as his volley of missiles flew wide while the Crab’s particle cannon stripped some armor from the Mad Dog’s left leg.  
The Crab backed away while Stephen pushed his omnimech forward at a walk. The Crab’s particle cannon missed while his autocannon raked the Arkab mech’s torso and he could see the armor stripped away, exposing internal components.  
Still backing away, the Crab scored a hit on Stephen’s Mad Dog’s right arm while his laser missed. Missiles struck the Crab’s right arm twice, shattering bits of the limb’s internal frame.  
As the Crab passed through a grove of maple trees, a squad of DCMS infantry stood up and saluted. The Azami officer keyed his loudspeaker, “Take cover, soldiers –and dare not interfere. This is my fight.”  
The Mad Dog suddenly broke into a run and fired all of its weapons. The autocannon and missiles flew wide, but a searing energy bolt burned its way through the Crab’s left torso. A heat sink exploded with a shower of steaming coolant. The Crab’s medium laser missed while the particle cannon melted away layers of armor from the omnimech’s left torso.  
The Crab backed through light woods, the Nova Cat Mad Dog followed, walking cautiously.  
The Mad Dog managed to strike the Crab’s center torso, flaking away at its frame. Another left leg strike bit off more armor.   
The Azami battlemech backed out of the protection of the wooded area and into the open meadow of gracefully waving grass. The wide circle of omnimechs moved to keep the combatants in their center.  
Stephen’s Mad Dog stepped out of the shading canopy of trees and squinted his eyes for a moment. It was a beautiful afternoon, the skies blue with silvery clouds slowly making their way to the Southwest. Numerous condensation trails crisscrossed the skies denoting another battle raging far above the one in which he fought.  
The omnimech tapped into the planetary MilSat display, which showed countless aerofighters locked in combat as well as dozens of emergency location transmitters indicating pilots who were forced to eject from their stricken craft.

In a violent exchange of weapons fire, the Azami battlemech shuddered as its right arm was sheared away, taking the precious particle cannon with it. The Crab’s left arm was without armor and took more damage to its already weakened frame. The Crab’s laser stripped away all but a thin layer of the Mad Dog’s right arm’s armor, the particle cannon’s burst struck the omnimech’s head and tore it open.  
The Mad Dog staggered as if dazed. Stephen remembered a bright flash, followed by pain. He could feel the warm sun on his face and feel the breeze that moved the tall grass in green waves, he could feel the blood trickle down the right side of his face. He ignored the flashing lights on his console and spun his omnimech’s torso to face his opponent.

The stricken Crab backed toward the ring of observing Clan Nova Cat omnimechs, swung its torso and fired its large laser at the closest, stationary Dire Wolf and the medium laser at a nearby Gargoyle. “Allahu akbar!”  
The Mad Dog stood immobile, Stephen was stunned for a few seconds as the huge omnimechs, without thinking, reacted to the unexpected challenges. Their torsos turned, weapons instinctively snapped into position and fired at point blank range. Struck from all sides, the Crab collapsed as its cockpit, right torso and right leg were torn asunder by the torrent of concentrated fire.  
The Nova Cat mechwarrior fought back the tears that welled in his stinging eyes and tried to shut out the voices of his comrades congratulating his victory.  
“I have failed my Clan.”

Noon

Stephen knelt beside the wreckage of the Azami Crab, long after the circle of omnimechs had broken up and continued on their way to Waseda Hills. He felt the approach of Elementals before he heard them.  
“Cheer up, Stephen,” said one of the Elementals through his tinny, external speaker, “Star Captain Drummond told us to bring this casualty bag for the fallen mechwarrior, and she ordered us to stand by and guard the site until his people come to recover him.”  
The Clan mechwarrior slowly rose to his feet, “Thank you, Morris, but I must apologize for denying you the opportunity to fight.”  
“Do not worry yourself over it, Stephen,” answered the other Elemental, whose gentle, female voice seemed incongruous with the massive battle armor she wore, “The Star Captain says that you have to get back to the dropship and have your omnimech repaired…and I will give you a big hug later.”  
Stephen smiled, “Aff, I shall head back,” he turned to face the ruined Crab and saluted. “Thank you, Katya, I look forward to that hug.”

Clan Nova Cat Landing Zone

The Medical Science Officer handed the mechwarrior a small bottle, “Take one of these after each meal.”  
“Thank you, Nigel, I feel better already,” Stephen said, “It may take a while before my omnimech is ready, they decided it would be faster to replace entire limbs than repair them.”  
“You, my friend, are lucky to be able to get back into the fight,” commented Nigel.  
Stephen shook his head, “I am still depressed, that fine warrior chose death over capture.”  
“I saw that!” exclaimed the Medic, “Those two boys are in for a serious scolding, as the word had been put out to take that Crab’s pilot alive.”  
“You saw it?”  
“We were getting live feed from the first arrivals on the scene,” Nigel said, “some of our media technicians are already piecing together a full-length holovid of the ‘Heroic Crab’,” he told Stephen, “They have probably pulled data from your battlerom to add to the production.”  
“As much as I appreciate all the congratulations I have received,” Stephen said, “I still feel horrible about it, and people keep bringing it up.”  
“I see,” said Nigel softly, “well, get to your bunk and try to rest.”

Stephen stopped off at the mess for tea and a buttered scone and closed his eyes as he took a sip of his tea and savored its subtle flavors.  
“Attention, all personnel: Please refrain from offering your well-meant comments to Mechwarrior Stephen, as he is rather vexed over the outcome of his recent fight,” it was Medical Science Officer Nigel’s calm voice, “give him some quiet for a day or so, if you please.”  
The mechwarrior shook his head then smiled, “Good old Nigel.”  
One of the servers approached his table, “Forgive me, Stephen, I was so insensitive!”  
“No worries, Molly,” he replied, “you were unaware, at the time.”  
“More tea?”  
“Please.” Stephen felt much better.

Early Afternoon

The annoying buzz from the intercom prompted Stephen to force open one eye. He slapped the button on the console, “Mechwarrior Stephen,” he grunted, as he rolled upright in his bunk.  
“Hey Stephen, this is Greg in the repair bay, you may saddle up, it is in the Prime configuration.”  
“Warm it up for me!”  
The Nova Cat pilot was already fully dressed and wearing his shoes as he jumped from his bunk and grabbed his neural helmet on his way out the door.

The repair bay was unusually quiet, Stephen realized that of his star, his Mad Dog was the only machine to incur damage, so far. He mounted the catwalk and practically leaped into his cockpit and grinned as the displays glowed with data; His trinary was still advancing through Waseda Hills.  
“Restraints away!” shouted Greg, his team members stood back and saluted as the Mad Dog strode out of the bay and down the ramp. The shadows were long as the heavy omnimech loped swiftly across Tairakana Plains and past Basin Lake, where dozens of wrecked battlemechs lay strewn across the field.  
“Star Captain Drummond, Mechwarrior Stephen, on my way to Waseda Hills.”  
“Good to hear from you, Stephen,” answered Drummond, “We are looking at pausing at our current position for reorganization,” she added, “We may have a rough time since our allies have almost depleted their promised aerospace assets by noon,” she continued her report, “Clan Smoke Jaguar has also reported a Combine force had penetrated behind their lines and inflicted almost two stars’ worth of omnimech casualties to their reserve elements; They were abandoned in the field in exchange for the loss of two Combine machines.”  
“How did we ever agree to fight alongside them?”

Afternoon

“We are going to halt here for a while as cluster command awaits updated orders,” said Star Captain Janet Drummond, “Stephen and Lawrence shall be on first watch,” announced the captain, “Enjoy your rations and get some rest.”  
Stephen pulled the sliding table from under his console and removed the ceramic teacup from its padded container. He pulled the teabag from a cooling vest pocket and brushed the lint off it before placing it in the teacup, held the cup under the small tap beneath the right of the dashboard and filled it with steaming hot water.  
While his tea steeped in the small table, he fished a scone out of one of his trouser cargo pockets and unwrapped it. The scone wasn’t fresh, but the sweet, buttery flavor put him immediately at ease.  
“Hey Stephen!” It was Lawrence, “Which ration box do you have…what do you have to trade for a tin of biscuits and blackberry jam?”  
“Seriously?” Stephen was hesitant, “That is not worth a tin of pound cake and you know it.”  
“Pound cake? Please, please, please! What if I give you tomorrow’s dessert too?”  
“Alright, but it had better not be the granola bar.”

The pulse from the alarm caused Stephen to emerge from his nap to a full state of alertness almost immediately. He felt rested and commenced his startup sequence.

“Listen up, my war kittens,” began Star Captain Gwenneth Carns, the Trinary’s commander, “Star Colonel Thara Lossey, has declared a contest for the recovery of the best ‘venir’ of the campaign, entries beginning immediately and ending when our last dropship lifts off.”  
Stephen laughed, he loved the 119th Striker Cluster’s way of commemorating their campaigns by collecting mementos, or souvenirs. Each unit would hunt down and retrieve some item that best represented their participation; it didn’t have to be extremely valuable, just a suitable symbol of their campaign. The unit members would gather items and submit images upon which the unit members would cast their votes. The reward was a simple plaque and a notation in the unit’s historical record, while the ‘venir’ was eventually placed in the Nova Cat museum back on their Homeworld.

Stephen wondered to where the enemy had run off, “They cannot have pulled all the way back Luthien city.” There was an unexpected whoop over the radio, the 17th Striker Binary captured an armored car parked under camouflage in a stand of trees. They called for a cargo VTOL to pick it up. “Good show, lads!”  
“Stephen, there is a village in our path,” mentioned the star captain, “take Mira with you and see if it is clear.”  
“Aff,” replied the mechwarrior, “Mira, dear, we get to visit yonder village, please watch my back while I scout ahead.”  
“My pleasure, Stephen,” Mira replied, “flush out something for me to shoot at.”

The village was a collection of low buildings around a small park, most of the inhabitants appeared to live on the farms that surrounded that village and as the Mad Dog crept along the paved street, Stephen surmised that the village had already been evacuated. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a small shop with its doors open.  
“Mira, I am going to investigate something.”

Mechwarrior Mira’s Timber Wolf was about a hundred meters behind the Mad Dog when she saw the omnimech kneel and the pilot dismount. She scanned the surrounding buildings and expected militia snipers to cut her friend down at any minute.

“Irrashaimas’!” a cheerful, elderly woman greeted Stephen with a humble bow as he sauntered through the open door. The shop appeared to contain a variety of goods, from small farming tools to canned food, to clothing.  
“Good morning, old woman, I thought you would be evacuated by now,” said Stephen, he looked at a case of plastic-wrapped products, “What are these?”  
“I’m eighty-five years old,” the woman replied, “I would rather rest at home instead of an uncomfortable cot in a refugee station…” She picked up a package to show him, “This is instant ramen, it tastes very good, you know,” She suddenly grinned, “You like try some? I make for you!”  
Stephen was suddenly touched by her sincere hospitality, “If it is not too much trouble, dear lady,” he thought for a moment, “Could you prepare two meals? I have a friend with me.”

The Timber Wolf halted outside of the store and paused beside the parked Mad Dog.   
“Mira, come in and try this.”  
The omnimech knelt carefully and the mechwarrior emerged from the cockpit.  
The Clan Nova Cat woman entered the shop and saw Stephen seated at a little folding table across from the oldest human she had ever seen, her skin was incredibly wrinkled, her hair white as the clouds in the sky. Three steaming bowls of soup sat on the table.  
“Have a seat, Mira,” Stephen motioned to her, “this stuff smells delicious!”

“Honestly, Stephen, twenty cases of Tomoe-chan ramen?”  
The mechwarrior replied, “You loved it too, right?” He pushed a hand truck loaded with a stack of cardboard boxes.  
“Well, it is better than the boring rations and easier to prepare,” she assented.  
“Yukiko-san was so nice and gave us an awesome deal, as well, Mira,” said Stephen, “we get her entire inventory of ramen, the twenty liters of soy sauce, the fifteen cases of mochi candy you liked…”  
“Oh, that mochi is heavenly!” she popped a little square of the chewy candy into her mouth. “Mmmmm!”  
“All that for a two hundred-fifty-gram ingot of gold,” explained the mechwarrior, “and Yukiko-san let us borrow this hand truck to load all the goods into your Timber Wolf.”  
Mira rolled her eyes, “Yeah, yeah, because your Mad Dog barely has room for a pilot.”  
“That reminds me,” added Stephen, “I have to ask Yukiko-san to use her latrine before we leave.”  
“How did you get the idea of trading the gold ingot?” asked Mira.  
“If you must know, I once met a Clan Diamond Shark merchant caste member and asked him about dealing with Inner Sphere civilians in order to obtain venirs without having to fight for them,” Stephen told her, “He told me that gold or silver were universally accepted mediums of exchange.”  
“So, how did you get your hands on an ingot of gold?” she asked, “I figured they would be controlled.”  
“Gold is strictly controlled, due the massive black market that we all know exists,” answered the mechwarrior, “but certain techs, such as the electricians, use a lot gold repairing and electroplating crucial components,” he continued, “the ingot cost me half a year’s worth of ration pound cakes I had saved up.”

Stephen’s Mad Dog rose to its feet, “One last inspection before we head on out,” he announced. His omnimech turned and crossed through the small park.  
“Mira, look at that!” he exclaimed. The Mad Dog spun to its left and pounded across the parking lot's pavement.  
“What is it?”  
“Follow me,” he said, “we found a winner!” The Mad Dog trotted across the well-manicured grass and halted before a marble pedestal, upon which an ancient, verdigris covered, bronze statue stood, a samurai warrior in full armor, his katana raised in defiance, with an ornate, engraved bronze plaque that read, “Coordinator Urizen II (2590-2710)”.  
“Hey Gary, this is Stephen,” he transmitted, “here are the coordinates, send out a VTOL and an engineer team to retrieve my ‘venir’ entry.”  
Gary exclaimed, “Wooo! Awesome find, Stephen! We are on our way!”

Stephen rejoined his star, which was made up of his Mad Dog, Mira’s Timber Wolf, Elissa and her Storm Crow, Lawrence with his Hellbringer and Sofia in her Timber Wolf. Mira made sure everybody got a sample of mochi candy and promised that nobody in their star was eating rations for dinner that evening.

“The town up ahead is called Bernoulli,” instructed Star Captain Janet Drummond, “at the entrance to Kado-guchi Valley, with a population of about one hundred thousand, we expect the defenders to be merely a couple of battalions of militia infantry with some vehicles,” she reported, “the First Elemental Binary and the 17th Striker Binary have been committed, while we have been relegated to serve as the reserves, as needed.”

Late Afternoon

Mechwarrior Stephen could not believe the tenacity of the defending Kurita soldiers. The units were dug in and camouflaged, heavily armed with VLAWs that inflicted incredible damage to Elementals and Omnimechs alike, and when attacked, often fought to a man, without yielding a millimeter.  
Of the cluster’s two Binaries, only three points of Elementals survived and Star Colonel Thara Lossey bitterly pulled them from the battle after a company of infantry holed up in a hospital, which turned that valuable resource into a valid target. That forced the cluster commander to break her own order to preserve valuable assets and level the collection of medical buildings with volleys of Arrow IV missiles.  
Stephen’s cluster was finally thrown into the fray in order to cut off a handful of surviving vehicles as they fled toward Luthien. Slaughtering the helpless personnel carriers made him ill.

Elsewhere on the battlefield, Stephen was shocked at the reports of the presence of the notorious Wolf’s Dragoons and the powerful Kell Hounds, two huge units that ComStar failed to include in their report of Luthien’s defenders. “How long will it take that nincompoop, Khan Furey to revise his bid to match the latest data?”  
There are two, massive, unexpected units, surely there is no shame at adjusting their forces to match the current defenders? There were several, uncommitted galaxies aching to land and fight, currently sidelined due to the false data provided by ComStar.

The news of the 32nd Assault Cluster’s breakthrough followed by headlong retreat in the face of a strong counter offensive left Stephen slack-jawed. The campaign was suddenly turning into disaster at every level.  
With Clan units in retreat on nearly every front, Mechwarrior Stephen expected a recall order. His Striker Star hunted down a pair of vehicles that managed to slip through the cordon of Clan Nova Cat omnimechs. The vehicles sped across a bridge, followed by the eager star. Mira’s Timber Wolf carried one of the remaining points of Elementals from the abortive assault on Bernoulli.  
The vehicles crested a berm and disappeared from sight. Heedless of the risk, the Mad Dog bounded over the rise and Stephen beheld an amazing sight.  
Stretched out before his omnimech was a vast tent city, perhaps a regimental marshalling point, where masses of soldiers stood in neat formations while awaiting to board dozens of transport lorries. Instinctively, Stephen swept his weapons from one side to another, raked the enemy infantry and vehicles to deadly effect. Mira’s Timber Wolf opened up a split second later, the Elementals leaped into the massed formations and delivered flaming death to the panicking militia.  
The lorries scattered like so many cockroaches after the lights were turned on, they plowed over the tents in an effort to escape the wrath of the invading machines that had appeared out of nowhere.  
Mechwarrior Elissa in her Storm Crow sprinted after several escaping lorries then reported, “Stephen, you are not going to believe this…”  
“Go ahead and report, Elissa.”  
“Just beyond the tent city is a huge, I repeat, huge, depot,” she reported, “I mean munitions, fuel, supplies, components, even vehicles!”  
“Mira, have our Elementals rig the depot for demolition, posthaste!” Stephen suggested.  
“On it,” Mira replied.

The carnage lasted only a few minutes. Their sudden fury cooled, the Nova Cat omnimechs found themselves standing over hundreds of surrendered and wounded militia soldiers.  
“There is no way we are taking this planet,” said Stephen, “Have those unfortunate people find operational vehicles to load the wounded and get them to all Luthien.”

As twilight began to fall, the first fuel tanks exploded among ammunition crates and a dozen columns of black smoke rose into the sky and soon, the light of the flames reflected off the clouds above Kado-guchi Valley.

“Stephen, report your position.”  
“Hello, Star Captain Janet,” answered the mechwarrior, “We crossed a river between Bernoulli and Luthien.”  
“Well, get back here, immediately!” she ordered, “The Smoke Jaguars are furious that a Nova Cat unit made it further than any of their assets, and they reminded me that our role in this campaign is supportive or as reserves, and you are certainly not permitted to cross that river.”  
“Well, what do you want me to do, put out the fires and fix all the damage too?” This day was beginning to get to him.  
“Just reposition on the Bernoulli side of the bridge.”  
“Whatever you say, Janet,” he replied glumly. “Mira, we have to move out,” he informed her, “Get that regimental banner before we leave.”

Dusk

As the star of omnimechs crossed back over the river, Stephen noted two pairs of targets approaching the burning depot at high speed.  
“Hurry up people,” he warned, “we trespassed into the enemy’s back yard and left a huge, smoking dump.”  
“Thank you for that image, Stephen,” commented Mira, “I am probably going to dream about it.”  
“Every time I see a huge, smoking dump, I will think of you, Stephen,” added Elissa.  
Stephen laughed nervously, an eye on the targets that made a several passes over the enemy camp. He was thankful that darkness was falling and the aerospace fighters that buzzed around the area like angry hornets would have difficulty spotting his fleeing star.

Mira found a tranquil hill overlooking the town of Bernoulli and the exhausted star laagered at that position, along with the other two stars of their trinary.  
There were grills and picnic tables at the site and the trinary shared bowls of ramen, pickled vegetables and a variety of candies that Stephen and Mira had crammed into their omnimechs.

Star Captain Janet Drummond looked weary, “Another victory like Bernoulli and we will surely lose the war,” she said, “our cluster lacks the Elementals for another urban fight and tomorrow, we may be involved in a street to street battle against several regiments of fanatical Draconis Combine infantry, armed to the teeth.”  
The very thought made Stephen shudder.


	3. The Cat in the Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle for Luthien drags on, the defenders hold and Clan Smoke Jaguar breaks, so Clan Nova Cat covers the retreat.

Night

The alarm on his console screamed and Stephen’s eyes shot open. He slapped the screen to shut off the shrill wail.  
“Wake up, stray cats!” announced the star captain, “We are marching to the sound of the guns; A battle is being waged and we do not want to miss it!”  
“Fighting at this hour?” Stephen asked, “This is another ‘clever plan’ by Clan Smoke Jaguar, eh?”  
“Worse, if that could be possible,” replied Drummond, “our allies are clashing against Wolf’s Dragoons and the Kell Hounds and they are finally calling for help.”  
“They want us to pull their nuts out of the fire,” laughed Stephen, “If you asked me, I would let their nuts burn.”  
The overlay of a map was superimposed on his console, and he could see red arrows pointing on the path his unit was instructed to take.  
“Make your best speed to Kado-guchi valley,” said the star captain, “you are to advance until within combat range, form up, then advance to contact.”  
There was a chorus of “Aff” from the trinary of omnimechs, as they trotted through the darkness.

Mira commented, “It looks like a thunderstorm.”  
“Those are the Long Tom batteries that surround Luthien City,” answered Stephen, “Woe to the unit that is forced to endure the brutal hammering of their shells.”  
“Keep moving,” sighed Drummond, “do not let yourself be a target, avoid standing stationary for any length of time, or you will be showered with artillery shells.”  
“So, Clan Smoke Jaguar is finally getting a lesson on real war,” commented Stephen, “I wonder, how would they fight if they had their backs to the wall, and struggling for survival?”  
“As funny as that would be to observe,” responded his commander, “that would be a disaster for all of the Clans.”  
“This Nova Cat reserves the right to choose upon which side I fight,” declared Stephen, “and I shall always oppose Clan Smoke Jaguar and their ilk, because they are a stain on the Clans, as a whole.”  
“Please hold off on your trial of annihilation,” cautioned Drummond, “at least until this campaign ends,” she added a graphic overlay to his display, “It looks like our allies have committed all they have to this push.”

The Clan Nova Cat trinary loped into the valley indicated on their navigation displays, they had passed occasional Clan Smoke Jaguar omnimechs, limping away from the front, mutilated from battle damage. They found scattered wreckage of dozens of Jaguar machines, strewn about like broken toys, on ground cratered and smoking.  
Enemy aerospace fighters screamed overhead, which caused Stephen to break out in a cold sweat. Fighting another battlemech is one thing, being the mere target of several tons of bombs is no way for a warrior to die. He pictured an insect being crushed under a boot.

The terrain changed into a gradual incline and Stephen’s display showed the remnants of a Smoke Jaguar trinary struggling against a small, mixed force defending a stately mansion that overlooked the valley. As they approached, they could see a company of armored vehicles behind a berm, only their turrets exposed to fire. Behind those vehicles, stood five battlemechs, which Stephen recognized as a Victor, a Whitworth, and a pair of Panthers.  
A Summoner jumped over the mansion and in mid-flight, it was struck by a pair of particle projectors and a smattering of missiles, which caused the hapless omnimech to spin in mid-air and tumble onto the green ceramic tiles of one of the mansion’s wings and into the structure, where its icon went dark.  
In a brief exchange against a Timber Wolf, the Whitworth erupted into a ball of fire and collapsed in a heap. A Firefly dropped to the ground, under the Victor’s withering fire. One of the Panthers lost a leg and struggled to stand to keep fighting.

“Look, at the top of the heights!” cried Elissa, “Kell Hounds!”  
“There has to be over a hundred battlemechs,” added Lawrence, “They are pursuing the fleeing Jaguars!”  
“Stand your ground, my kittens,” said Drummond, her voice calm and firm, “We cover the retreat.”  
“I suppose this battle is over,” Stephen commented, “When Clan Smoke Jaguar discovered the many extra units present, they had the full right to alter their bid, aff?”  
“Aff,” agreed the star captain, “We could have revised our own bid, which, in winning, may have placed our clan in charge of the operation and take the overall leadership away from the Smoke Jaguars,” Drummond growled, “I believe that was what the Jaguars feared most: Success under another Clan’s command.”

“Keep your interval,” cautioned Drummond, “just back away at a walk.”  
A handful of damaged omnimechs passed through our lines, the entire cluster formed as a bulwark against an irresistible, massive wave of enemy machines.  
“They advance, but why not charge us?” asked Mira, “We would be overwhelmed.”  
“Mayhap they have had their fill of slaughter,” mused Stephen, “do you forget our attack on that town?”  
“Aff,” Mira responded glumly, “that was dreadful.”

Late Evening

The thin line of defending omnimechs retreated to the Tairakana Plains, to the foot of the Waseda Hills. The trinary stood near the wreckage of a Crab, where two Elementals stood vigil over a body bag. The massed Inner Sphere forces were a kilometer away, advancing at a slow walk.  
“Katya, Morris, it is time to go home,” Stephen said, “Thank you.”  
“It is good to see you, Stephen,” Katya answered, as she climbed up to the brackets, “We go home.”  
Ahead of the approaching ranks of enemy battlemechs, advanced two Crabs and a Dragon, followed by a vehicle, a Maxim hovercraft, all in mottled, mustard yellow camouflage, and displaying the green banner of the 8th Arkab Training Cadre, etched with gold Arabic script. The Maxim flew a white flag and as the Clan Nova Cat trinary backed away, the Arkab contingent stopped at the fallen Crab and several infantrymen dismounted from the vehicle carrying a stretcher. One of the Crabs knelt near the body and its female pilot dismounted. She fell to her knees and bowed her head beside the dead pilot, while the soldiers lifted the body bag onto the stretcher and solemnly bore it away to place it upon the Maxim. The mechwarrior rose to her feet and snapped to attention and saluted the receding trinary before she returned to her machine.

The advancing Inner Sphere units halted at Waseda Hills and the Clan Nova Cat Cluster finally turned and marched back to the landing zone, without interruption.  
Mechwarrior Stephen was silent for the rest of the journey back to his dropship and dreaded the coming debriefings that followed every operation, especially a failed operation.  
“Will you look at that?” exclaimed Mira.  
Elissa asked, “What is it?”  
“They placed spotlights to light it up!” chimed in Lawrence, “It is bolted to the very top of our dropship.”  
“Congratulations, Stephen,” announced Star Captain Janet Drummond, “you won the contest!”  
Stephen was still somewhat confused until he looked up. Standing on top of the Union dropship, illuminated by a circle of spotlights blazing brilliantly in the darkness, was the statue of Coordinator Urizen Kurita II.

The Mad Dog trudged up the ramp towards the repair bay. The technicians were celebrating, as usual, as if they had won the battle. Nevertheless, the fighting was over, and their charges had returned in one piece -more than adequate reason to celebrate.  
Stephen climbed down from the scaffolding, where Katya, now wearing her fatigue uniform, stood waiting. The Elemental woman wrapped her arms about his smaller form and gave Stephen a tight hug.  
“Ouch! Have a care,” he warned, “I was wounded today!”  
Katya released him and stepped back, “Sorry, are you alright?”  
Stephen massaged his neck and rubbed his shoulder, “I will live, I guess,” he reached into a vest pocket and handed Katya a palm-sized box, “Here you go.”  
“What is it?”  
“Mochi candy,” replied the mechwarrior, “I grabbed a case of it, but we have to fetch that and the other boxes of stuff from Mira’s Timber Wolf.”  
Katya unwrapped the small square of soft candy and popped it into her mouth, “Oooh, this is good!” She took is hand and pulled him toward the bay where Mira’s omnimech was located.  
The techs were lounging about the Timber Wolf, munching on mochi.  
“Thank you for the candy, Stephen!” shouted Mira. Her technicians echoed her in chorus.  
Stephen growled under his breath, even though he was going to share the candy with them, anyway. “Make certain all the techs get a small box,” he told them. After they stored the cases he had brought back in a locked storage container shared by the star, he linked arms with the Elemental and led her to the mess. “Katya, have you ever had instant ramen?”


End file.
